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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502259">illicit affairs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus'>octothorpetopus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>folklore [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The West Wing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Idiots in Love, M/M, Secret Relationship, god I love all of these morons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:00:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,076</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret relationships always end one of two ways: either the secret ends, or the relationship does. Josh and Sam's is no different, and when their secret is found out, they've got no choice but to choose: end the secret or end the whole thing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>C. J. Cregg &amp; Josh Lyman, Jed Bartlet &amp; Josh Lyman, Josh Lyman &amp; Donna Moss, Josh Lyman &amp; Toby Ziegler, Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>folklore [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>illicit affairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Never in the White House. That had been Josh’s rule, although Sam had been reluctant to even get into it in the first place, and it was well-understood. Not even at parties, or when it was late in the office and they were the only two left. There was too much at risk, personally and professionally. So that was the rule. Never in the White House.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That didn’t stop them from breaking the rule occasionally. No, there had been a few quiet kisses shared behind closed office doors, and the odd hand-holding session under the table during senior staff, but every time it had been followed by a conversation, that that was officially the last time. And then it wasn’t the last time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Josh barely glanced up from his desk. He didn’t need to look to know it was Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey. What’s up?” Sam paused momentarily, waiting expectantly for Josh to look up at him. “Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m done.” Sam had that look on his face, the combination of pride and exhilaration he always had whenever he finished something big.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the state of the union.” He grinned, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on top of his head, half-burying them in his dark hair. He was proud for a reason, this was the first time Toby had ever let him take the reins on a major speech, and it was all Josh could do not to jump over his desk to congratulate him. Instead, he opted to run to Sam and fully picked him up off the ground, spinning him in circles, both of them howling with excited laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am so proud of you,” Josh said as he set Sam down, trying to memorize the feeling of Sam’s warm face in his hands. Sam, for a speechwriter, seemed utterly speechless, but retained enough of his motor skills to kick Josh’s office door shut without leaving his arms. “What are you-“ Sam kissed him, and for a moment, Josh forgot about rules. At that moment, he would have liked little more than to go home, crack open a bottle of wine, and then curl up in the bed that he and Sam virtually shared at this point. But he’d settle for one celebratory kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...guys?” They had been so wrapped up in each other, in their success, neither of them had heard the voices outside, muffled through the heavy wooden door, or seen it open, until Donna spoke. They sprang apart, like there was any pretending that it had been something other than what it was, and as Josh turned to gauge Donna’s reaction, he saw that she wasn’t alone, that CJ and Toby stood behind her, all three with equally shocked expressions. There was dead silence for what seemed like hours, or maybe that was just the sound of blood rushing in Josh’s ears. Donna blinked rapidly, like she was trying to refresh her own vision, and shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leo needs you. In his office. For um… well, I don’t know.” She turned away, rubbing her temples, and disappeared from sight. Toby tugged at his goatee, almost said something, and then didn’t. He backed away, leaving just Josh, Sam, and CJ.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, CJ, we’ll be there in a minute. Can you just, um…?” She didn’t seem to want to, but she went, glancing at Josh one last time over her shoulder as she walked away, something on her face that he couldn’t quite identify, somewhere between sympathy and regret. Josh closed the door, willing himself not to turn around, and willing Sam not to say anything, because maybe if they just never looked at each other or spoke again, it would all go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that wasn’t how it worked, was it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam.” No response. “It’ll be okay, I think. I mean-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.” Sam spoke so quietly that Josh wasn’t even sure he had spoken. Sam, as a speechwriter and lawyer before that, was the best speaker Josh had ever met. He kept an even tone and steady volume almost no matter what. Occasionally, when debate got really heated, the volume increased. But Josh couldn’t ever recall hearing Sam go quiet, and that, more than anything, sent a chill through every bone in his body. Blindly, with a shaky hand, he reached out for Sam, hoping to grab a hand or an arm or really anything to assure him that it was still Sam who sat beside him, the same Sam who let Josh beat him at chess and who pretended he’d let Josh beat him at basketball, who wrote everything from inaugural addresses to birthday cards with the full force of his speechwriting prowess, who wouldn’t say a bad word about anyone he worked with whether he liked them or not because he cared too much about what other people thought of him. “Sam, baby-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me that!” There it was, that loudness. Part of it comforted Josh, because at least he recognized it. But then, every time Sam lost his temper, every time he shouted at Josh or Toby or some random congressman who had his head shoved particularly far up his ass that day, he could see a little piece of that sweet, dignified Sam slip away, replaced by something solid and freezing, like ice but impossible to melt and impossible to break. That was what this building, this fucking glorified house did to the people who worked there. It broke them down all the while telling them they would be stronger, better for it. But that wasn’t true, all they would be was cold and hard and angry at the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe that’s just how Josh was feeling at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go.” Sam wiped his cheeks and Josh realized he had been crying. “Leo’s going to wonder where we are and I don’t really want Toby or CJ to have to answer that question.” He stood up and tucked his glasses into the front pocket of his shirt. Josh always liked to make fun of the monogram on Sam’s shirts- NSS. He didn’t feel much like making fun now. Sam paused in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall light. When he spoke, his voice was flat and cold, and he didn’t turn around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You coming?” Well. He was waiting. That was something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’m coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam didn’t talk as they walked, so Josh didn’t either. They had spent dozens of nights in comfortable silence, Josh falling asleep with his head on Sam’s chest while Sam did the crossword. This was not that kind of silence. This was the kind of silence that occupied war zones between battles, brimming with apprehension, knowing something was coming, that at some point, mortar shells would rain down on the trenches, but not knowing when.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you’re finally here.” Leo hardly glanced up from his desk when they came in. “I just need a minute and then you can all go home.” Josh sat down at his usual seat at Leo’s table. Sam stayed behind, drifting in front of the doorway, as if he were ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. Toby stared at his shoes, and Josh couldn’t tell if his mournful expression was because he was actually mourning the loss of something, although what that might be, Josh couldn’t imagine, or if that was just how his face looked. CJ, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be able to stop herself from glancing between Josh and Sam every couple of seconds, gauging the temperature in the room through sight alone. “Listen, the president’s birthday is on Thursday, and he really wants to have this thing with China wrapped up before the party. Josh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll talk to the Speaker, see if I can talk him down on tariffs for awhile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you’ve got two days.” Leo looked at Toby, who had hardly moved since the meeting started, and then to Sam, who was still shifting nervously from foot to foot, to Josh, who was frozen, to CJ, fidgeting in her seat. “What the hell is wrong with you guys? You look like you just killed someone.” Josh scratched the back of his head, trying to look natural, but feeling like a marionette on a string, as if someone else were pulling his limbs outside of his will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we’re all just tired, Leo,” he said, and managed a smirk. He had been an okay actor back in high school, and he hoped he was good enough now. Leo either couldn’t tell or didn’t care, and either way, that was fine with Josh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Leo paused expectantly “What are you waiting for? Go home.” Sam was the first one out the door, but the other three lingered momentarily, CJ and Toby exchanging wary glances while Josh looked on. He didn’t much like this, the watching from the outside as his friends came to their own conclusions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Scuse me,” he muttered, and pushed between them. The sooner he could grab his backpack and jacket and be out of here, the better. He just wanted to go to bed. Maybe this was a bad dream. Maybe he would wake up with his head on Sam’s chest and Sam’s arms around his shoulders and no one would know. Only he had never had a bad dream that hurt this much. Josh had never had a heart attack before, but he had to imagine it felt something like this, the dull pain in his chest sharpening by the minute, like there was lightning in his veins, only not the good kind, but like he was being electrocuted from the inside out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam was practically jogging down the hallway about twenty feet in front of Josh, and ordinarily, Josh would have run to catch up, but not tonight. Tonight, he walked back to his office, trying the breathing exercises Stanley had taught him after Rosslyn. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. They might have worked, only Josh saw Donna’s desk light on. She was sitting at her desk, but she wasn’t doing anything. Just sitting, staring straight ahead, focused on some hazy distant universe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Josh said, approaching cautiously, like he was waking a sleepwalker. Donna blinked rapidly, coming back from wherever she had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Donna-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going home.” Josh stepped back. Donna never interrupted him, not like this, like she just couldn’t hear him. He felt like he had been slapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna-” But she wasn’t listening, she was putting on her coat and tucking her long hair under a stocking cap, bundling up against the abnormally cold D.C. January. Josh watched her go. Whatever he could have said, it was too little, too late. With a sigh, he reached over to switch off her desk lamp, but his hand hovered over a picture frame that lay face-down beside it. Donna always kept too many pictures on her desk, it was a pet peeve of his, but he let her do it because it made her happy. With a sinking stomach, he turned it over to see which picture had fallen over. It was one of the two of them, taken on election night. He remembered that night, when he and Donna had split a whole bottle of champagne between themselves and stayed up until everyone else had gone home. Well, nearly everyone. The part of that night Josh remembered the best wasn’t getting drunk with Donna, it was that Sam had taken him home, and he had planted a kiss on Sam on his front stoop. Their first. Sam insisted their first kiss was a week after that, at a party Sam’s parents had thrown for them, but Josh knew it was election night. He also knew that the picture hadn’t fallen, and that Donna had taken it down on purpose. He replaced the picture just as he had found it, facedown, and turned off the lamp. Then he got his jacket and backpack and went home alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh had thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep. That was what usually happened when he was anxious about something. But he was asleep as his head hit the pillow that night, and he had to drag himself out of bed in the morning, although that wasn’t particularly unusual. After a shower and two cups of coffee, he found that he was feeling more like himself, until he remembered Donna and CJ and Toby and the way they had all looked at him, looked at Sam. It didn’t help his mood when he looked out the window to see that a light dusting of snow had coated the ground overnight. And as much as he dreaded going into work, there was something oddly comforting about the knowledge that he didn’t have a choice. That was the thing about a job of this magnitude- there were no sick days, there were no vacations, except maybe the odd long weekend, or if something really bad happened. But as the president was so fond of saying, decisions are made by those who show up, so this morning, Josh was going to get another cup of coffee, get in his car, and show up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing was different. Speechwriters and policy advisors and researchers still swarmed the bullpen, chatting and laughing, blissfully ignorant to everything that had happened that had happened not 20 feet from where they stood. And among them, Donna, her usual smiley self, holding half a donut and laughing at something an intern had said. Josh really thought he could handle CJ and Toby’s disappointment, even Leo’s, maybe, as long as he had Donna.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said as he approached her desk. The way her face fell broke his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have meetings on the hill all day,” she replied, forgoing a greeting. Her expression was stony in a way Josh had never seen before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna-” he started, keeping his voice low so it carried under the buzz of noise around them. She ignored him and got up, leaving her donut half-eaten and crumpled in a napkin on her desk. “Donna!” He was shouting now, above the din, and it was as if the rest of the world had gone on mute. Every head in the room snapped towards him, and Donna froze mid-step. “Donna, you have to talk to me!” She let out a breathless, acidic laugh, and looked back at him over her shoulder, the first time she’d met his eyes since she walked in on him and Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s rich, Josh, that’s really…” All of a sudden, she seemed to realize everyone’s eyes were on her as well as Josh. Sheepishly, she ducked her head and pushed through the small group of staffers that stood in front of the doorway. Josh almost went after her, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam standing outside his office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you people not have work to do?!” Still shouting, Josh waved his hands, and everyone else hurriedly returned to whatever they had been doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Sam was talking now, so that was something, but the bags under his eyes looked more like suitcases and his hair was a mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Josh stepped aside so Sam could enter his office and closed the door behind them. Jos wrapped his arms around Sam’s chest and buried his face in Sam’s neck. To his credit, Sam didn’t step back or push him away, he hugged Josh back, stroking his hair, but he moved stiffly, like he hadn’t slept in a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen CJ today?” He asked, sounding small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Toby on my way in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he say anything?” Sam shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Although I think I might have been more worried if he had.” Josh sat on the edge of his desk, observing Sam carefully. They had known each other so long that it wasn’t difficult for Josh to read him, and presumably vice-versa. What he saw now, more than anything else, was confusion. “What… what do we do, Josh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I mean, we’re not living in the era of the Lavender Scare anymore. They can’t fire us just for being gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not worried about us getting fired, Josh. I’m worried about our friends. I mean, did you ever, in your wildest dreams think that Donna…” Sam trailed off, and Josh realized he probably looked angrier than he meant to. Not because he wasn’t angry, he was angry, at Donna, at Toby, at CJ, even at Sam, and then he was angry at something completely abstract that he couldn’t quite pinpoint that had ruined his first great love. Also because he knew that it terrified Sam when he was angry, whether that rage was directed at him or not. Josh had never been confident enough to ask him about it and Sam had never been forthcoming enough to tell him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you think our friends- you think Toby and CJ, who have been hailed by the conservative media as radical leftists, are going to cut us off because we both like men?” Josh grinned, trying his best to diffuse the situation. If he could just de-escalate the conversation… only Sam wasn’t going to let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh, you know it’s different. First of all, we’ve never had a conversation with them that was anything other than hypothetical. Being okay with having a gay friend is different conceptually than it is in practice-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, thank you, Sam, for explaining my own sexual orientation to me, that’s very helpful-” Sam wasn’t listening anymore, he plowed right past Josh, like he hadn’t heard anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And even if they don’t have an issue with us being gay, we’ve lied to them for two years. And maybe they’ll understand, just maybe, but they won’t be able to trust us and that’s no one’s fault but ours. We did this to ourselves, we painted ourselves into a corner.” Josh sauntered over to where Sam was pacing in front of the door and gathered Sam quietly in his arms, ignoring the pounding in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I had to be painted into a corner with someone, I’m glad it was with you,” he murmured, and kissed the crook where Sam’s neck met his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go,” Sam sighed, and withdrew from the embrace. “You’ve got meetings on the hill all day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Josh cracked his neck and shifted his backpack to the other shoulder. “Listen,” he said as he opened the door, allowing a little bit of the light and noise from the bullpen into his office. “Call me at lunch, would you? After meeting with house Republicans all day, I think I’m going to need to hear your voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see if I can find the time. Toby wanted to go over the State of the Union, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Josh took a step, paused to look back at Sam, and then left him standing in the dark office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam didn’t call, and Josh didn’t feel much like calling him. When he got back to the White House, it was already half-dark outside, and Sam had gone off to dinner with a congressman, or maybe his mom was in town? Josh wasn’t particularly listening when Ed- or was it Larry- told him. And maybe having Sam there would have relaxed him a little bit, but this was one conversation he could have by himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she in?” Josh asked Carol, but he could see the light on through the crack under CJ’s door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As far as I know.” Carol shrugged, but waved him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CJ?” He knocked softly, half-hoping she wouldn’t hear and he could come back in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in!” came the muffled reply he half-dreaded. Smiling sheepishly, he slipped in through the crack in the ajar door and closed it behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he said, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. CJ didn’t say anything at first, she just smiled at him, and it was the first smile Josh had seen all day that felt genuine. “Can I, uh-“ he gestured at the sofa she had pushed up against the wall. She watched him sit from her desk, setting her chin in her hand as she considered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” she said finally. “You and Sam, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CJ, I-“ Josh paused. “Wait. That’s it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… you’re not mad? Or… I don’t know, disgusted?” CJ looked at him like he was crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you crazy? Did you hit your head or something? Why would I be mad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Frankly, the more Josh thought about it, the more he couldn’t find a good answer. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not mad, Josh. I’m barely even surprised. I always thought he had a thing for you, I was just missing the part where you had a thing for him right back.” CJ sat down next to him and let her head fall against his shoulder. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever kept a secret for so long you don’t know what to do when it’s not a secret anymore? You just have no idea of what your reality is if you don’t have that secret to keep all the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, how long are we talking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TWO YEARS?!” Josh winced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you keep it down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m honestly surprised you managed to keep a secret for two years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that bad at keeping secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told Toby about the surprise party we were planning for him literally ten minutes after we decided to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Point taken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really love him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’m happy for you. And I’m happy I don’t have to worry about finding you a girlfriend. Which, I guess, you don’t need one for, uh, several different reasons.” Josh sighed and let CJ take his hand. It had been a long while since the two of them had had a chance to be like this, just the two of them. Josh thought that maybe after Sam, CJ was the best friend he had ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna’s upset.” CJ didn’t seem surprised at that. “I tried to talk to her this morning, she just blew me off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Joshua, not everyone’s as easygoing as I am.” Josh snorted. “You know what I mean. You did lie to us for two years. And I get why you thought you had to, and that’s why I’m not upset, but Donna…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna what?” CJ frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, just… look, Donna will come around. She’s still your friend, Josh, and if you need her, she’ll be there. In the meantime, you have me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have Toby?” She shrugged, which didn’t fill Josh with confidence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I had to guess, yes. But you ought to talk to him yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Josh kissed the top of CJ’s head and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you, CJ.” As he walked towards the door, feeling better than he had all day, she reached out a hand to stop him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Sam… you’re really good together. Don’t let me and Toby and Donna do anything to change that.” And that’s when Josh remembered how he hadn’t seen Sam all day, and how he’d once again be going home to an empty bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” he responded, and closed the door behind him. “I won’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nice thing about Sam and Josh knowing each other so well was that Josh knew Sam always went to the same restaurant when he was taking someone out for dinner. It all went back to the fact that Sam was a surprisingly picky eater, so he went to the one place he knew he could order something he liked without making a thousand specifications. He also had a tendency to duck out for a quick smoke between dinner and dessert, much to Josh’s chagrin. Because Josh knew all this, he didn’t have to wait long under the eaves before Sam appeared, his breath visible in the freezing night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate it when you do that, you know,” Josh said as Sam held a lighter to his cigarette. He had been trying to quit since they had first met as congressional aides, the habit a leftover from his mid-youth crisis, the one small rebellion he took against his parents in his teenage years. Now, he really only smoked when he was particularly nervous, like when he took congressmen out to dinner or got outed to his coworkers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam jumped, the flame extinguishing before it could light anything except the frigid January air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Josh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Josh said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Despite the exhaustion still evident on his face, Sam looked sincerely happy to see Josh. Josh glanced left, then right, then back over his shoulder, then around Sam, and once he was confident they were relatively alone, pressed a peck to Sam’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going home,” he said, and couldn’t help but marvel at how good Sam looked in the cold, with his nose and the tips of his ears already pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me.” Sam chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in the middle of dinner. They think I’m taking a phone call from my mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell them there was an emergency and you have to go.” Josh ran his gloved fingers over Sam’s face, his strong jaw, his smooth cheeks, his perfectly chiseled lips. “Come home with me, and you can do the crossword and I can watch the eleven o’clock news and then we can go to sleep and wake up and go into work. Together.” Sam, who had been looking rather fond up until that point, stepped back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t go into work together, Josh. It’s not just that we had a secret and now the secret’s out and everything can be fine now. Do you realize how much more scrutiny the president’s going to be under if the press finds out that not only are two of his senior staffers and policy advisors gay, they’ve been sleeping together since the beginning of the term? Every piece of gay rights legislation we’ve helped pass and that he’s signed- now all anyone will be asking is if he did it for us. I just… we can’t do this to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Newsflash, Sam, our lives? They don’t revolve around the president and his actions.” As soon as the words left Josh’s mouth, he realized they weren’t true. But he had his guns, and he was sticking to them. “We should be allowed to be together and be seen out in public and come into work together in the mornings just like any straight couple in our position would. And if the press doesn’t like it? Fuck ‘em.” Sam smiled, but it was sympathetic, almost patronizing; infuriating, coming from someone almost 4 years Josh’s junior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish that were how it worked, Josh. You know I do. But we have to do what’s best for the administration as long as we’re serving at the pleasure of the president. And in two years, or six years, it’ll be over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In two years or six years, we won’t be having this conversation. At least I won’t.” And though Josh had never considered it before, he knew it to be true as he said it. “Because I can’t do this for two more years or six more years. I know it’s not going to be easy, Sam, but we can’t put every part of our lives on hold just to appease those vultures in the press room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you giving me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t an ultimatum, Sam, and it isn’t over. We need to talk more, I know that, and we’ll need to talk to some other people too.” Like Donna, he thought. “I’m not giving you a week to make up your mind or anything like that. I’m just saying… we need to work it out, and we can’t keep putting it off. Not like we have for two years.” Josh turned on his heel and started away, half-expecting Sam to call out, to stop him. But all he heard other than his own footsteps was the click of a lighter behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh almost didn’t go home. He walked the city for hours, up one avenue and down the next, zig-zagging a path from downtown all the way out to Adams Morgan before he realized it was nearing 3 in the morning and he had 3 hours to get some sleep and be back in his office. Most of the cabs didn’t come out this far, but he managed to find one and hail it down. It took everything he had not to fall asleep in the backseat, but he had things to think about and plans to make.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his Georgetown apartment, Josh prayed for sleep, sleep like he had had the night before, where everything faded to black for at least a few hours and all thought was irrelevant. Sleep had tried to come for him in the cab, but he had rejected the idea, and this was karmic retribution. Tonight, however, he couldn’t sleep like that, or sleep at all, really. After about an hour of futile attempts to get some rest, Josh pulled himself out of bed and padded into the kitchen, his too-long pajama pants making a </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoosh-whoosh-whoosh </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound as he walked. It was 4 a.m. and still dark outside, but the city was just beginning to wake. Josh started the coffee machine and sat down at the counter, where a massive pile of mail had been gathering for about a week. Most of it was either junk or postcards from his mother, who was on a Scandinavian cruise, but scattered throughout was a week’s worth of copies of the New York Times. Sam had been so busy with the State of the Union that he hadn’t been able to come over and do the puzzle like he usually did every night, so they were stacking up in Josh’s kitchen instead. Josh hadn’t used to subscribe to the NYT, he used to just pick up a copy once a week at the newsstand on the corner, but Sam was at his place so often he gave in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josh picked up the paper on top of the pile and flipped it to the crossword. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“A weasellike animal with dark fur. 6 letters. Ferret.” He found a pencil in a nearby drawer and filled it in. “Colds that last a long time. Seven letters. Ice ages. Easy. Quick board meeting. Ten letters.” He thought about it, then thought some more, then gave up and tossed the paper aside. Maybe he’d pick up bagels on his way in today. As a peace offering. From the bagel place he never went to because the line was always too long, but that Sam loved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To tell the truth, he felt bad about last night. He’d always been the impulsive kind, but Sam was his weak spot. And now, that impulsivity, that weakness, had left him here, still awake at 4 in the morning, no boyfriend, no Donna, nothing. Somehow, he’d have to fix it all, fix his life and the country at the same time. That was the thing about working where he did. Neither he nor Sam had been right- they did have to put their lives on hold, but not completely. It was just that they had to do both simultaneously. Josh had never had to serve at the pleasure of the president and take care of a relationship before. Even when he’d worked for congressmen and senators and governors, even when there had been Mandy, and the other women before Mandy, before Josh realized that the reason none of his girlfriends ever lasted was because he wasn’t particularly interested in the “girl” aspect, he had never had to keep secrets like this. At first, it was just that kiss on election night, and then a week later their first real kiss at the base of the Washington Monument, a rather proverbial location for the start of their relationship, at the structure commemorating the start of a nation. Two years was a long time to hold it all in, but to Sam’s credit, there was a reason for it. There was a reason no one could name more than a few out-and-proud gay political operatives, and it wasn’t because they simply didn’t exist. It was that they found it made their lives and their candidates’ lives that much easier if they hid it in the background.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, there had never been a candidate like Jed Bartlet, and Josh was fairly certain there never would be again. Not even if Sam were to really give running for office a go, which Josh was fairly certain he would do one day. Even before he found he loved Sam more than he loved himself, he always thought Sam might end up being “his guy” in the same way Leo always said Jed was “his guy”. Seaborn could be the next Bartlet, but as long as they were together, Josh couldn’t be his Leo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the point remained that if there were any president who would give them his blessing wholeheartedly, with no regard to how it might affect his agenda, it would be the man who waited with Josh at the airport after his father died, who sat at Josh’s bedside after he was shot despite having been shot himself, who cared for his staff as though they were his own family. Sam wouldn’t let him do that, not if left to his own devices, but Josh might. Maybe that was selfish of him, but if it meant he could be with Sam the way he never really thought he’d be, he would sacrifice politics to see that smile, the smile Sam reserved just for him, out in public, political consequences be damned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But first, bagels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh didn’t even bother to swing by his own office first. For one thing, Donna would be there, and he could have that conversation with her, he’d have to, but not until he talked to Sam. Sam had to know he had Josh on his side, that was the most important thing. Josh had waited in line for a good half hour to get Sam’s favorite bagels (one everything bagel with garlic and herb cream cheese, one cinnamon sugar with peanut butter), and while he waited, he thought about what he might say. Only all of that slipped out of his head as he knocked on Sam’s office door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not here yet.” Josh turned to see Toby staring at him from where he sat at his own desk. Josh said nothing. He hadn’t seen Toby since it all happened. That didn’t seem to faze Toby. “You brought bagels? That’s a nice touch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talked to him?” Toby shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t need to. He came back in at nine o’clock last night, smelling like smoke. He only smokes-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-when he’s upset. I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I guess you would.” Josh glanced back at Sam’s closed office door, then sat down on the sofa in Toby’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he talked to you? At all? Since…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, are you mad at him? Or something?” Toby laughed, which took Josh back for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh, why would I be mad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean this to be rude, but I don’t really care who either you or Sam are sleeping with. That’s your business. I care if he finishes the State of the Union. As long as you’re happy…” Toby waved a hand. “I don’t really care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Uh, thanks? I think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem.” In his peripheral vision, Josh saw Sam’s coat swish by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh?” Toby asked, stopping Josh midway through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you hurt him, I will kill you.” He said it so earnestly Josh honestly believed he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it.” For the second time that morning, Josh knocked on Sam’s door. This time, someone answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in.” Josh held the bagels out in front of him like a shield as he shut the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-sorry.” Sam finished his apology milliseconds after Josh. Josh narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what are you sorry for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was snippy with you last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snippy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Short. Terse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I mean, I think you had a right to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I shouldn’t have showed up at your work dinner like that. And I should have listened to you instead of giving you an ultimatum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t an ultimatum-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was an ultimatum. A stupid one, at that. Anyway, my point is, I’m sorry. And I brought bagels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From the-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From the place on the corner, yes.” Sam rounded his desk to take the bag, and gave only a brief glance over Josh’s shoulder into the bullpen before pressing a quick kiss to Josh’s cheek. “What, you’re not worried about someone seeing?” Sam shrugged and adjusted Josh’s tie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they gonna do? Also, the Vice President borrowed the speechwriting staff for the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right before the State of the Union?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s also the president’s birthday. He wanted them for an hour so he could have some help with his toast for the party tonight, and as much as I’d like to see him choke, I was feeling benevolent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Proud of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Josh wanted more than anything to kiss Sam right now, for real, but he still had work to do and at some point, there were a couple tough conversations he needed to have today. That was part of the reason he was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god. What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I know I’ve asked you for a lot in the last couple of days, and it’s not going to get easier from here. That being said…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh, what I said last night, just because I was overly snippy about it doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that. Which is why I think our next logical step should be to talk to Leo and the president.” Sam didn’t look shocked. He looked like he’d seen it coming a mile away. Resigned, he started polishing his glasses absentmindedly, something he did when he was nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. We’ll do it tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight? Tonight’s the president’s birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before the party, then. But yes, tonight. And you have to talk to the president.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was your idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” As subtly as he could, Josh shifted his hand so that it sat on top of Sam’s hands, which were still busied with his glasses, steadying them. “Tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go.” Sam smiled up at him, and he looked less tired than he had since he started in this job. “I’ll see you tonight. Oh, and Josh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to Donna.” Reluctantly, Josh pulled his hand away and tucked it back in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Donna was at her desk, and it almost didn’t look like anything was wrong, except the picture frame that remained face-down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna.” She didn’t look up. “My office. Now.” He didn’t wait for her to follow, but he heard the sound of her heels clicking behind him. Once they were both safely inside the four walls of his office, he closed the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need?” She asked, with the clipped tone of someone very angry trying their hardest to be polite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>need? Donna-” Josh sighed and ran a hand over his face. “You’ve been acting weird and pissed-off for two days. That ends now. Tell me what your issue is with me and Sam.” Donna shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna!” She flinched, and Josh cursed himself silently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, just… what’s going on? Are you jealous? Is that it?” Donna, confused, shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh, why would I be jealous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, that’s not it. That’s definitely not it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, will you just tell me? I don’t want to have to stand here and guess, we both have much more important things to do.” Donna frowned, but cleared her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just… you lied to me, Josh. For two years. And I… I mean, I get why. I’m not stupid, and I know it’s irrational, but… I wouldn’t have told anyone, Josh. I would have been happy for you. You know everything about every guy I’ve dated since you hired me, and I didn’t even know you were seeing someone. It just hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donna…” Josh sighed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She was shaking a little, but she hugged him back, and even though it had only been a couple of days, Josh realized just how much he had missed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll never lie to you again. Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. But…” Donna pulled herself out of his hug. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe anyone anything about yourself you don’t want to share. You know I’m the one being ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are. A little bit. But the truth is that I hated lying. To everyone, but especially you. So I promise that, if it’s not a matter of national security, no more lies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pinky swear?” Josh rolled his eyes, but linked his pinky with Donna’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go do whatever you’re supposed to be doing.” She went back out to her desk, and as Josh passed by, he saw her prop the picture frame back up, smiling fondly all the while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he in?” Charlie glanced up from his desk, already dressed for the party in his tuxedo (Josh had helped him pick it out, and he thought he had done a rather nice job). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so. You look nice.” Josh tugged at the cuffs of his own tux.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead.” Taking a deep breath, Josh pulled open the door to the Oval Office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. President?” The president looked up from his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joshua. Josh. What can I help you with in the-“ the president checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes before my birthday party starts?” He held up his shiny new watch. “This was a birthday present from my wife. I suspect it’s rather expensive, but the numbers on it are so small I can’t read it without my glasses. I’d think for so much money, they could put a little more number on the thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure, sir. And you know what? I can come back. It’s nothing-“ Josh stepped back, but President Bartlet held out a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Josh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess, I’m not really sure how to say this, Mr. President.” Josh chuckled, trying to offset his anxiety and failing miserably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you resigning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you dying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also a no, sir.” The president frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then, I can’t imagine what it is that you feel as though you can’t tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m seeing someone, sir.” His face lit up, and a smile broke across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? I’m glad to hear it, Josh. Is she coming tonight?” That was what Josh had been afraid of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, sir, but-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to hear it. What’s her name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Samantha’s a lovely name, I’m sure she’s a lovely girl-“ Josh had never interrupted the president before, at least not intentionally, but he did now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s the thing, Mr. President. It’s not Sam as in Samantha, it’s Sam as in Samuel. Samuel Norman Seaborn.” The president didn’t move, he merely raised his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I think we’d better have a seat.” He settled into one of the chairs by the presidential seal on the floor and gestured for Josh to sit in the other. “So,” he said after a moment of silence. “Sam? As in-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our Sam, yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For how long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little over two years. Sir.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good lord. Frankly, Josh, and I hope you don’t take offense at this, I’m surprised you managed to keep a secret for two years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t easy, Mr. President.” Josh opened his mouth, considered, and closed it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just… what are you thinking right now, sir?” Bartlet shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking about the raspberry vanilla birthday cake waiting for me in the ballroom.” Josh looked up, concerned. “Kidding. I’m not really thinking all that much of anything, to tell you the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re not mad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not mad. Shocked, sure. But mad? How could I be? I’m happy you’ve both found someone you’re happy with, Josh. That’s all I could ever want for you.” A little wave of relief swelled in Josh, and pride along with it, pride that he knew he’d picked the right guy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, sir, I have one slightly more practical question for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know if Sam and I go public, you’ll be under some more scrutiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m the president, Josh, I didn’t think there was any more scrutiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there will be questions about all of the gay rights legislation we’ve passed. About…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether I did it as a favor to you and Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Quietly, the president thought for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what if I did?” He said at last. “So what if it was a favor? It still did a lot of good for a lot of people. I ran on the platform of gay rights long before I hired you or Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re okay if we…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Sam are free to go out in public with each other just as soon as you’d like, and if anyone has anything to say about it, which I’m sure they will, they can come talk to me.” Josh bit his lip and when he blinked, found that there were tears in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything for you, Josh. Really.” The president looked down at his new watch. “Now, I can’t tell if that’s a seven or a one, but in the event that it is a seven, we ought to get going before my wife kills me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir.” Josh followed him out into Charlie and Mrs. Landingham’s office. “Go ahead, Mr. President. I should find Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Charlie and the president left, and Josh was alone, but he somehow felt less lonely than he had in days. It was as if all that electricity, the nervous, manic energy, had rushed out of him, and he slumped against Charlie’s desk, laughing quietly to himself and letting the tears flow freely down his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Josh?” He hardly heard Sam come in until he was bent in front of Josh, eyes wide with worry. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did he-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Josh brushed his cheeks and stood abruptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So then-” Sam didn’t get a chance to finish before Josh kissed him and sent them both stumbling backwards towards Mrs. Landingham’s desk. “He said yes?” He asked, breaking the kiss for just a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said yes,” Josh replied and kissed him again. After a few agonizingly fast seconds, Sam pulled back. "How did it go with Leo?" Sam shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He doesn't seem thrilled at the prospect, but I think that has more to do with the fact that we're both senior staff to the president than that we're both men."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good enough for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Sam threw his arms around Josh’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We made it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did.” Josh buried his face in Sam’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you more.” As they untangled from one another, Sam held out his hand, and Josh took it, swinging it between them as they walked. “Oh, Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to do the New York Times crossword this morning- you’re a few days behind, by the way, and there was one I couldn’t get. ‘Quick board meeting’. Ten letter.” Sam gave it a moment of thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Speed chess.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I never would have gotten that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And lucky for you, you’ll never have to.” Sam leaned over and kissed Josh’s cheek as they walked. And for the first time in their entire time working at the White House, Sam and Josh walked through the halls hand-in-hand, their first rule broken for now and forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And that’s the thing about illicit affairs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And clandestine meetings</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And longing stares</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They show their truth one single time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But they lie and they lie and they lie</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...a million little times</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was my first samjosh fic ever, but I think it turned out well! if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment, I promise you it makes my day as a writer. I hope to make this fic part of a longer series of 17 fics, one inspired by each song on folklore, but we'll see! thank you so much for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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